Tripped
by keeponwritin
Summary: Besides, it's not like I wanted her back anyway. [Oneshot.]


**Warnin'**: This contains spoilers for a couple of season four episodes. It takes place post-Islands in the Stream. For those who don't know, that's the next episode that will air here in the good ole' US of A. The spoilers are quite minor. And... yeah.

Note: Just a little ficlet I wrote when I was on some great drugs. Um, I mean... yeah, no, I'm kidding--druhz r bad!1 Dunn do drugz, kidz!1 Um, but yeah, I don't really expect anyone to enjoy this. I don't even really enjoy it. Just read it.

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I mean, honestly. She wants to talk about bigger man? _I_ certainly wasn't the one sitting on Spinner Mason's lap with my arms draped around his neck, throwing my head back gently in laughter in the middle of the cafeteria. _I _certainly wasn't the one wearing miniskirts and halter tops and flirting with various boys despite the Manuella Mason' scribbled all over everything I own. _I_ certainly wasn't the one who was thought to have learned my lesson and then willingly let history repeat itself. I mean, clearly the world has no concept of what being the bigger man truly is, if this is even a question.

Then again, jealousy, bitterness, and complete and utter immaturity tend to knock some points off my side. But bear with me here.__

Reason numero uno why Manny Santos is not any better of a person than the fine JT Yorke himself? The girl is immature. A mature person would say, Last time I cheated, I became the school slut, I got pregnant, and had to have an abortion. And I didn't even get the guy in the end. So why do it again? I have no doubts of Manny's intelligence and pure and simple common sense, so I assume these things passed through her mind, but why they were not absorbed is far beyond me. And reason numero dos? Simple. She's a fake. I knew the real name Manny Santos: the one that hated to be called Manuella,' the one that loved chocolate ice cream and comfy sweatpants, the one that did not care if boys saw her looking less than perfect. I guess the easy way out is ascribing it to adolescence, the simple need to have less boy friends and more boyfriends, to be thought of as sexy and wanted by guys that did not have headgear and Coke-bottle glasses. I understand this, for even the most modest among them feel that pressure. But why is it that the adorable, feisty Ms. Santos fell under this pressure? Simple.  
_  
_She didn't just want attention. She needed attention. She was about to die without it. The lovely Emma Nelson never intended to let Manny fall under her shadow. I'm not sure Emma even realized she was casting a shadow, since she thought of herself as lowly as they got on the metaphorical food chain of teenhood. But there was Manny, on the sidelines, trailing behind, following. There was Emma, going for Sean and ultimately, shockingly, getting him, even taming him. Now, the whole world is fully aware that Sean and Emma broke up like, ten million times, but what did Manny see? Fairy tale romance. That's what she craved, but living in Emma's shadow made her invisible to boys. It was a screen, and the only way around was carving her own niche; Emma was the and now there was Manny. The school slut.

It's sad, in a way, that I can follow her train of thought so easily. It makes me realize her complete transparency.  
_  
_Why, oh, why did I ever go out with Manny Santos? I won't lie. On that first day, I still remember, the little baby blue number, the caramel skin. Suddenly, after years and years of friendship, it occurred to me just how hot she could be. I scrambled to snatch her up. I was her best guy friend, after all. That should've given me some extra points. But I was already too late. Lost to an egomaniac named Sully. That made me feel real good about myself--i.e., I didn't really do much of anything for a while, socially. Then... oh, you know the tale. Craig goes off and cheats like an absolute moron, gives up two of Degrassi's finest, and my golden opportunity makes a reappearance. I'd had months to reassess my feelings, and when they were still there in February, I didn't think it was possible that I'd maintained a purely shallow crush for that long; there had to be something deeper there. So I jumped at it. And let's be honest: if Manny hadn't been the accomplice to a major cheating scandal and gotten pregnant, she wouldn't be the school tramp' as she was thought of then, and I certainly still would've had zero chance with her. But luck of the draw, I guess. The relationship was really nothing special. At the time it was wonderful and exciting because I had the freedom of making out with the invincible Manny Santos whenever I wished. In retrospect, those were some of the most boring months I've ever lived.

The break-up... err, yes, not exactly something I like talking about. Let's just say we broke up on account of creative differences, and leave it at that, shall we?

Now where does this all leave me? Sitting at my table in the cafeteria with Toby and Danny, eating a strangely-warm turkey sandwich and watching her enviously. Watching him enviously. Watching everyone around me that looked even remotely happy enviously. Don't get me wrong, having her back was the last thing I wanted right now. I just hated him. Him and his hypocrisy. _Oh, JT, don't go out with Manny, she's a total slut!_ he said last year. Oh, wonderful, and now they're sucking face. Where's an anti-PDA teacher when you need one?

What I wanted most was for this all to be over. This drama, I mean. I kind of missed those days, when Emma, Manny, Toby and I could all just goof around and act like the crazy kids that we were. Now Manny's untouchable, Emma would rather be friends with the likes of Paige Michalchuk, Toby's hanging out with a psycho, and I... am the pathetic jealous boy who enjoys sitting and psychoanalyzing his ex-girlfriend at the lunch table.  
_  
_I picked up my tray, having not said a word to either Toby or Danny all lunch, and headed towards the trash can to throw out my near-empty soda can and half-eaten sandwich. Much to my dismay, this meant walking directly past Manny and company, and there was no way to avoid it. I sucked it up, because that's what the bigger man does. The bigger man is not afraid to confront his ex-girlfriend while she's canoodling with her new, bigger, scarier boyfriend. No, not at all..

I was watching them out of the corner of my eye as I passed, their giggles and their whispers and their affectionate stares. The urge to slap Spinner silly overcame me, but the mantra came into my head, _Bigger man, bigger man, bigger man.._.

My mantra kept me from doing something stupid and rash, creating any self-inflicted embarrassment. Except, I guess it really was self-inflicted, because if I hadn't been so caught up in watching them, I would've noticed the tall boy heading in the opposite direction as me, and I might not have collided with him as I did just then. I fell backwards, and everything on both our trays went flying all over. My soda spilled on my shoes, his yogurt crash-landed and exploded at my side, bursting strawberry pink globs across my pants. A stray noodle from the floor stuck to my shirt.

Um, like, sorry, dude, the guy said, before walking off.

I guess the shock of it all temporarily drowned it out, but a few seconds later, I was hearing the familiar muffled giggles. The table by which I sat soon erupted into hysterical laughter. I struggled to my feet, almost slipping into the yogurt. It was just my luck that the first person I saw when I got up was her, covering her mouth and laughing quite amusedly. Upon noticing my noticing of her, she closed her mouth, smiled wide, and cocked her head. I stared at her for a second, before wryly returning the smile. I picked up my tray and walked away.  
_  
_After all, I'm still the bigger man.


End file.
